click.click. from a relay installed in the ceiling coming to life. "Ken?" I was surprised at the voice. The speaker was not Dave, but a relative of his. Still and all, Dave must be listening to this conversation, or this person would not have gotten into my bedroom. A.I. Jean Majors. "Hello, Jean." "I'm sorry, but when Dave told me you were up and restless, I decided that it was time I had a little talk with you." Her words echoed strangely about the living room, and I realized that a privacy field had come on over the bedroom access. Jean did not want P'nyssa to hear this conversation. Politeness? or... "So what's up?" I said. "Before I say anything else, I need to tell you that I'm probably going to be violating someone's trust in this." "Jean, are you sure that this conversation is necessary?" I asked. For an AI to tell anything told in private is like a confessor breaking silence; something serious is going on. There was a pause. "Yes, yes I am." Another pause. "Ken, how long have you an P'nyssa been living together?" What? "Uhm, about a hundred and sixty eight years." "And how many kids does P'nyssa have?" "Three, all girls. Jean, what are you talking about?" "Hold on. When did P'nyssa have these kids?" "Well, P'Maya was born in '56, P'Rose was born in '63 and P'Lissane was born in '70." "And when you met P'nyssa was in '81, wasn't it? P'Lissane was 11 then if I recall, and lived with her father." "Jean, what's the point of all this?" "Which means that P'nyssa hasn't had a child in 183 years, right?" "Uh, right." I said. I was starting to get the picture. |